


Candlelight

by EurydicaeQuercus



Series: Enasalin is supposed to mean Victory [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Confusing Family Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Doom Upon All the World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 13:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18757294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EurydicaeQuercus/pseuds/EurydicaeQuercus
Summary: It's been years since Enasalin and Leliana last spoke to each other, and now seems as good a time as any to catch-up and reflect on the time that has passed them by. The world has changed in the years since the Blight, and not always for the better.





	Candlelight

Enasalin sat, looking into the empty glass, watching how it distorted the light of the candle just beyond. The sun had set over Skyhold, which made sneaking up here embarrassingly easy, even by her standards. 

The room had a certain spartan quality to it; a bed, a table and a chest over in the corner. Of course, Leliana would be used to living like this by now. Her most important things, if the letters her dear niece sent her were true, were up there, in the main tower. The room itself was just a room; convenient for sleeping in, with a slighter chance of being stabbed in the back than sleeping out in the open. 

Soft footsteps padded up the stairs, and a hand touched the doorknob outside, hesitating for a moment. It was likely Leliana was already aware she was here, if not of her actual identity. Enasalin heard the faint sound of an arrow being knocked to a bow. It might be wise to set up a light barrier, just in case. 

The next moment the door swung open and Leliana was pointing an arrow directly at her chest. Enasalin just smiled at her. 

“It’s been a long time,” she said, tilting the glass on the table, casting odd shadows on the walls. 

Sighing slightly, Leliana slumped her shoulders and relaxed her bow, sliding the arrow back into the quiver. “Forgive me,” she said, closing the door behind her. “I have been on edge of late.”

“Haven’t we all?”

She gave a chuckle and moved over to the table, removing her weapons and resting them on it. Enasalin noticed how her hands lingered on the bow, reluctant to release it from her grip. 

“I can deal with any unwelcome intruders, you know,” said Enasalin, with what she hoped was a comforting smile. 

“I know,” sighed Leliana, not meeting her eyes. “Though I cannot say you haven’t shaken my trust in my guards. They did not tell me you were here.”

“You should know by now how much I hate coming through the front door,” she said, not letting the smile fall from her face, but not quite letting it reach her eyes. “Besides, I didn’t come to pay all of Skyhold a visit. I came for you.”

Leliana started slightly at these words, then gave a tentative laugh, a light flush on her cheeks. “Is that so?”

“Well perhaps that wasn’t my only motive,” said Enasalin, now pushing the glass towards her friend. “They say your beloved Inquisitor has disappeared.” She couldn’t quite hide the sarcasm in her voice on the word ‘beloved’. 

Leliana just gave a tired sigh, and reached for the decanter of wine sitting to her right. 

“So you  _ have _ been exchanging letters,” she said, now with a distinctly exhausted aspect to her features, rather like that of a hopeless parent speaking of an erring child. “I had guessed as much.”

“She is fond of you, you know.” 

“Yes, I suppose she is. In her own way.” 

“You’ll find that’s the only way there is, with Ren.”

“Ren?” asked Leliana, looking up at her sharply. 

The game was up.

“I’ve played my hand, haven’t I?” sighed Enasalin, opening her arms in a clear show of surrender. “Yes; Ren.”

“Is she…” Leliana hesitated, a strange look coming onto her face, as though she didn’t quite know what to make of the situation. “Is she your daughter?”

“What?”

“Is she your daughter?”

That was not the question she’d expected. 

“How old do you think I am?” asked Enasalin, now a touch offended. “No, she is not my daughter.”

“Then how—”

“She’s my niece, if you must know,” she said, huffily. “I was exchanging letters with her long before that peculiar request I got from you. Why on earth did you think she was my daughter?”

“There are certain...similarities between you I couldn’t ignore,” mused Leliana, sipping lightly at her wine. “A stubbornness of disposition, for example.”

“That’s hardly—”

“Storming off to sulk alone when you’re frustrated.”

“I do not—”

“And you both have the same smile,” said Leliana, now giving a rather smug one to Enasalin.

Enasalin could feel herself blushing, and shook her head to displace the sensation. Shadows danced and flickered on the wall as the candle burned lower and lower. Leliana must have been expecting someone if the candle had been lit before she got here. Curious.

“I assume these weren’t laid out for my benefit,” she said, gesturing to the items on the table. 

“You are awful at trying to change the subject, Ena,” said Leliana, shaking her head. “Perhaps I wanted some time to myself this evening?”

“You’ll have it soon enough,” said Enasalin, narrowing her eyes slightly. Leliana just gave a tight smile. “In any case, I’m not here to debate about the character of my niece.”

“You want to know where she’s gone, no?” asked Leliana, now sitting up a bit straighter. “I’d have thought she’d have told you, being as close as you are.”

“I’ve had no letters for weeks now.”

“It might be that she  _ can’t _ send them,” said Leliana, draining the rest of her glass, and holding it up to the light. “She told us she was going to close the last of the rifts.”

“And she categorically refused to take anyone with her, I’m guessing.” 

“Indeed,” said Leliana, once more gaining the tired parent look. “But Mistress Lavellan has had a trying time here, I know. I don’t blame her for wanting to get away. I would do much the same thing, I think, if I were in her position.”

“You understand her,” said Enasalin, smiling gently at her companion. “Thank you for looking out for her. I know she doesn’t say so, but she does appreciate it.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

There was silence then, for a moment. The weight of ten years hung heavy in the air.

“I expect you’ve been busy, running around after this new Order you’ve begun,” said Enasalin, for the first time noticing the dark circles under Leliana’s eyes.

“Not half so busy as I’m  _ going  _ to be,” she snorted, shaking her head and refilling her wine glass. There  _ was _ only one. Perhaps her explanation had been genuine. 

“The rumours are true then?” asked Enasalin, a little hesitantly, for she was no expert in such matters. 

“They say it’s all but certain I’ll be declared Divine by the end of the month,” she sighed, tilting her head back and leaning into her chair. “I don’t know how to feel about it all. I could do great things with the Chantry, I know I could, but can I inspire the people to feel as I do? It is no good trying to force these matters.” 

“If you truly feel it’s your calling the people will rally behind you no matter what,” said Enasalin, thinking back to those distant days during the Blight, and remembering the passion with which Leliana had spoken of her faith. “I think this entire episode has proved the people of Thedas will follow anyone if given a strong enough reason.” 

Leliana gave a sharp laugh. “Yes, I suppose you are right about that. Though forgive me for saying that I do  _ not  _ wish to mimic the leadership of your niece.”

“I quite understand that. I don’t think anyone could honestly advise it.” Enasalin thought back to the numerous half-distraught, half-elated letters she’d received from Zaren over the last year or so. Yes, it was certainly a good thing she was no longer there. “But I expect you hardly want advice from me.”

“Why not?” asked Leliana, leaning forward in her chair, looking at Enasalin with a bemused smile. “A better leader I have never met.”

“Ah, flatterer,” said Enasalin, playfully snatching the glass away from Leliana’s fingers and spinning it in her own. “That was years ago.”

“Strange to think a decade has gone by since those times,” sighed Leliana, looking distantly at the wall. “It seems only yesterday to think of it now.”

“I think we’re better than we were back then,” said Enasalin, watching the last dregs of red liquid swill about the bottom of the glass. “Or I  _ like _ to think that, at least.”

“A toast to the present?” asked Leliana, leaning over and pulling the cup up into the air, so they were both holding it aloft. 

The candle had almost burnt down to the ground, it’s flames just holding on to those last precious moments of life. Little by little, their time was running out. 

“To the present.” 


End file.
